I contemplate my powders float
I am a God when at my trade
I build, create, and then unmade.
As I swirl an ether in my glass
And calculate the final mass
I wonder if they pray to me as their creator
Expiator, like Judas copper is the one true traitor
Poisoning my vast burette
Which like a phallus stands erect.
My fluids gush, my fluids flow
They ask for C I’ll give them O.
The potency of God is mine
As solute fizzles in the brine
I shall make life!
Forge me a wife!
I’ll add some carbon, then add Fe
The masses then will worship me!
My wanton lusts, they know no bounds
And as my pestle gently pounds
Into the yoni of the mortar
Perhaps I’ll further make a daughter
For when my wife reneges to dust
I’ll need new means to shape my lusts…
The distillation’s doing fine
My lab will one day be a shrine
To those that come to worship me
And like Lord God I’ll set them free!
I hold dominion over atoms, nuclei
And though I’m wont to ponder why
The world is not by me remade
Instead I muse upon my maid
Extracting ambrosia from the fleshy flower
I gasp, and Hark! For near’s the hour!
I add my seed by teat pipette
Ignoring now the lurking wet
That stickly stains my sweating hands;
The fire from within my glans.
Within test tubes essence coalesce
And as I wait in mounting stress
For that one spark of true creation
I silently mouth some incantation
I know not what, but lo! What joy!
A body’s formed, -egads, a boy!
His member large where vulve should be
The Gods in jest have answ’d my plea!
No Helen of Troy for mine desire
But only this eternal ire-
He comes to me now across the room
And in his eyes I see my doom…
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